Did I Mention This is Strictly Hypothetical?

I so hate screening tenants. I can handle the after-affects of murder, mayhem, destruction much better than I can handle plugging in my crystal ball and figuring out if the person who seems absolutely delightful on the outside really plans on staying that way.

Jack showed our home on Wednesday to Haroldine. She called me a few hours later. Ms. Haroldine had an application and I gave her specific directions: fill it out completely. Include a photo ID. Include everyone who will be on the lease. Ms. Haroldine's only question was, how much would it cost to move in and when could this happen?

Fast-forward to Thursday morning. After several attempts and half a ream of ruined paper, I got the first page of the application back from her. On the first page--and only page--she only put herself down as the only occupant of this home. She didn't put down a spouse--but she told Jack she had one. Additionally, she put her monthly income as $695/month. The rent alone is significantly more than this.

Haroldine and I played phone tag for a good portion of the morning, with me telling her only the first page and several dozen blank pages of her application came through--about six times. Also, if there is someone who will be living in the home with her, I need thier information (like a spouse), because I will not be happy to pay for running credit twice. So, fix and resend. She would then send the original first page of her application again.

Finally, I called Jack. Haroldine's kill-a-tree fax program was getting a little over the top. I asked Jack if could take point and could she please pester his electronic office devices for a while?

AS Jack and I discussed the fax issue, Jack asked me what my initial reaction was to Haroldine.

"I have to tell you," I said, "She only put herself down on the application and her income doesn't cover the rent." I told him Haroldine's lack of consistency bugged me. I don't like people who can't fill out an application properly. In this case, her lack of fax competency was annoying as well. Perhaps it was where I was at emotionally at the moment, or perhaps it was gut feel. Either way, I wasn't excited.

It turns out Jack was bugged too. In fact, his BS meter had been spinning since they had parted ways the day before. His gut was telling him this was strange. When I asked, he said she only went into half of the home, completely bypassing the master bedroom, the laundry room and garage. Her only question was how much attic space was there. He found that odd but didn't really have a reason why.

I had a theory and I quickly shared it with him. Strictly hypothetically speaking, if someone has more interest in the attic than the master bedroom, it screams "grow house."

So I have heard.

I have also heard this is illegal. And, a grow house tends to bring over friends of tenants who also dabble in illegal things. These friends don't really have a lot of regard for my home. They don't have much regard for the law either. And, if my tenant leaves, it doesn't mean they might not show up again some time and take a look around at what the new tenant happens to own.

There are also other fun things I may or may not have heard about when it comes to grown homes--like the amount of moisture that will set in an attic when one is hypothetically watering hypothetical "herbs." Constant moisture can mildew rafters. To get the mildew off the rafters (after one has evicted the tenants), requires some ready, willing and able body to go up in the attic and scrape. Rafter. By. Rafter.

Strictly hypothetically speaking, I was pretty sure asking one question, and it being about attic space, sounded like a red flag. And, if this wasn't enough of a reason, I told Jack about the federal laws stemming from homes being used to grow illegal substances. If we rented to Haroldine, and this turned out to be an issue, the Feds could seize the home. And, there were probably liabilities that end up on us, that we probably didn't want to know about.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Jack muttered.

Me either.

Thinking out loud, Jack told me of a few other of Haroldine's behaviors that coincided my strictly hypothetical suggestion. Perhaps she wasn't really eccentric after all? "Yea, I think we should pass on her," he finally said.

I already did.